One Christmas Eve we had an open house. As one of the last couples was leaving, the guy said he needed to use the bathroom. I thought it odd because they only lived a five-minute drive away, but the guy had been drinking, so I figured his bladder was about to burst. Well, it wasn't his bladder that was about to burst.

He reemerged into the foyer, and in retrospect he did rush his wife out to the car with barely a goodbye. While I was standing there, reflecting that soon I was going to be able to crawl in bed to a well deserved sleep, there was this almost eerie silence followed by a whiff of Satan's vomit. Within seconds I was gasping for air. It smelled like a hyena pack had eaten a foul warthog carcass and gotten a bad case of the shits, if that is even possible. I did the only thing I could do and headed to the opposite side of the house, but soon that last bit of space was overwhelmed as well. My kids were retching and screaming we were going to die, and my wife had that "do something" look on her now green face.

I should have herded the tribe downstairs where we could have made an exit, but in my haste I had led them to an area where the only exit was a 25-foot fall out a window onto concrete. I considered sending my youngest out for a test fall, but the wife nixed that. I finally decided I needed to man up and go back into the belly of the beast and get some windows open. As I had done once before when my dog ate her own shit and barfed it up under the breakfast table, I doused a towel with some kind of orange oil cleaner and wrapped it around my head. I surely looked like a desert warrior about to go to battle with a mongol horde, although I would have rather faced the arrows. Short of it is, I got the windows open, and within 15 minutes the house was semi-habitable.

Soon I was lying down on the bed heading to slumber land. I'm not sure I was dreaming, but I swear that shortly later I heard my next door neighbor scream, "WHAT THE FUCK??"

Sorry, not my problem.

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About the Author

54 yr old former truck driver. have had ibs for the last year. love reading the stories but really like the reactions to them. have a story or two to tell.

2 Comments on "The Last Guest"

That's the one good thing about California, you can open the windows on Christmas eve and not give the whole family frostbite. I don't know how you managed that in Jersey.

A couple weeks ago my neighbor befouled my bathroom almost the way you described here. It didn't kill the entire house, but he closed the bath room door leaving a ticking time bomb for the next user. He also was on his way out. I discovered the stench when I went to take a leak after he left. I immediately called him and gave him plenty of grief.

Jack, it really didn't matter how cold it was outside. My family would have preferred parts of their bodies frozen solid and falling off to the stench that was surrounding them. I have smelled a lot of bad shit in my day, but this was definitely in the top ten.

PD, if you invite the Chief over for dinner on Christmas Eve, you should expect that the house will be unfit for human habitation, especially if you hear a hearty "Ho! Ho! Ho!" coming from the crapper.

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